In Springfield, Ohio, a network of churches has emerged as a powerful force of resistance and support for the local Haitian community, standing firm against political attacks and uncertainty surrounding immigration protections. The city's religious institutions have become vital hubs offering practical assistance and moral solidarity during a period of heightened fear and legal limbo.
Churches Provide Sanctuary and Services
At Central Christian Church in Springfield, Sunday morning services recently brought congregants together in celebration of a temporary legal victory. A federal judge had blocked the Trump administration's attempt to terminate Temporary Protected Status for approximately 350,000 Haitians living in the United States. The church, like several others in the area, conducts services in Haitian Creole and has welcomed thousands of Haitian residents to this small southwestern Ohio city.
Pastor Carl Ruby addressed the congregation about the ruling, offering theological perspective during challenging times. "During periods of suffering, the silence of God does not signify the absence of God," Ruby explained in his sermon. Pastor Viles Dorsainvil, who settled in Springfield in 2021 and also preaches at the church, added his interpretation: "Through all these calamities, fear, anxiety, panic and uncertainty, God is going to do something. That's what I took from that."
Escalating Threats and Community Response
The Haitian community in Springfield has faced increasing hostility since Donald Trump amplified false claims during his 2024 presidential campaign that Haitians were stealing and eating pets. This rhetoric reached national prominence during a presidential debate against Kamala Harris, triggering a series of disturbing events in Springfield. Schools, corporate buildings, and government offices received bomb threats, while white nationalist groups marched through the city demanding Haitians leave.
When Trump assumed the presidency months later, his administration announced the termination of Temporary Protected Status, which had allowed Haitians affected by political unrest or natural disasters to live and work legally in the United States. Although a federal judge blocked this order, the administration has appealed, leaving Haitians with TPS in legal limbo amid an escalating court battle.
Republican Ohio governor Mike DeWine addressed recent bomb threats targeting schools and county offices across Springfield, noting their explicit anti-Haitian message: "The whole essence of the threats were the Haitians should be out, get rid of the Haitians."
Building Resistance Infrastructure
Even before Trump's comments thrust Springfield into the national spotlight in 2024, churches had been quietly organizing support for Haitian immigrants. Dorsainvil established the Haitian Community Help and Support Center in 2023 to advocate for and serve the growing Haitian population that began moving to Springfield during the pandemic, attracted by employment opportunities and affordable housing.
The center initially welcomed hundreds of people for civil rights training sessions, English lessons taught by Ohio natives, and church services. Other religious institutions offered English language classes for parents and children, often in Sunday schoolrooms, while partnering with social service agencies to connect families with health screenings, vaccinations, and school readiness programs.
Practical Support Networks
Through church-organized transportation networks, volunteers receive training to drive immigrants to court hearings and medical appointments, serving as both chauffeurs and witnesses. These volunteers carry emergency contact information in case family members are detained and fail to return from appointments. "It's about reducing anxiety and making sure someone isn't alone," explained Michelle Boomgaard, an Episcopal reverend in Springfield.
As enforcement threats have intensified, the nature of support has shifted from services to protection. The Haitian Community Help and Support Center has closed its physical doors, offering services remotely to ensure member safety. Church leaders have also become more vocal publicly. In a recent open letter, 154 Episcopal bishops from across the United States called on Americans to "trust their moral compass," question rhetoric rooted in fear rather than truth, and stand with vulnerable people even when doing so carries personal risk.
"We don't preach politics," Boomgaard clarified. "But we do preach standing with the vulnerable." She noted that fear persists even after the temporary TPS block: "For a lot of white Americans, there was a sigh of relief – like, 'crisis over.' But for Haitians, the fear is still very real. It's not just about the law. It's about the attitude [of hate] that made all of this acceptable."
Community Organizing Beyond Churches
Other community members and organizations have strengthened Springfield's resistance network. Margery Koveleski, a Haitian-American interpreter and community organizer who moved to Springfield in 2001, has become a lifeline for families navigating uncertainty. As a full-time organizer, Koveleski begins her days responding to dozens of calls and text messages from families in need, then hosts office hours in a convenience shop where Haitians can ask questions about work permits, passport applications, and medical paperwork.
"People are terrified," Koveleski reported. "They don't want to leave their homes. Some don't even want to go to court." This fear has intensified with reports that federal agents are preparing large-scale operations in the region, possibly involving roadblocks, workplace visits, and enforcement near schools and social service agencies. City officials have warned residents that local authorities cannot stop federal actions.
The emotional toll on families has been profound. Koveleski described seeing children clinging to their parents and crying at their homes ahead of the TPS pause. "You see the horror on their faces," she said. "They're asking: 'Why? We're not causing problems. We're working hard. We're minding our business.'" She often returns home numb after spending days comforting families without clear answers. "It's like watching someone drown and not having a lifejacket," she reflected. "You just hold them and cry."
Preparing for Worst-Case Scenarios
Despite the challenges, Koveleski and others continue their work. "We're all different parts of one body," she explained. "The eyes, the hands, the feet. Everybody has a role." With speculation about federal immigration agents coming to the city, volunteers are helping Haitian families create emergency plans, including developing emergency childcare hubs at churches and identifying trusted contacts who can step in if parents are detained.
Community groups have organized coordinated food deliveries to households where people are afraid to leave their homes. Volunteers role-play scenarios to learn how to document Immigration and Customs Enforcement encounters and practice strategies like whistle alerts if enforcement officers appear. After watching violent ICE operations in Minneapolis and other areas, the community is preparing for worst-case scenarios.
"The panic is still here, and we don't know what the final verdict will be," Dorsainvil acknowledged. "But I think the final ruling will come soon, and we have to be ready." Throughout Springfield, advocates emphasize their collective strength. "There are so many good people in Springfield," Dorsainvil concluded. "So many people have come out to support Haitians in Springfield and that shows how powerful we are when we come together."
